


You'll Always Be a Mystery to Me

by kingstonkingdom



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Community: wholockians, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 06:36:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingstonkingdom/pseuds/kingstonkingdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At this moment, the silence is more pleasing to his ears than any piece of sheet music. He could lie there forever, and is strongly considering it when a loud crack of thunder jolts him upright. He sits up, opens his eyes, and finds a woman with a mess of curls on her head sitting in his armchair.<br/>“Hello again, Sherlock.”, the woman says, greeting him with a smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll Always Be a Mystery to Me

**Author's Note:**

> So I had an idea for a River/Sherlock crossover and this is it. Just a one-shot. Hope you enjoy.

Sherlock just laid there, still and silent. The best remedy for nursing his hangover. Due to their botched first attempt, he and John decided to try the whole “bachelor party” again, this time informing Ms. Hudson to turn away all clients for the night. He doesn’t remember much, but he didn’t wake up in jail this time, so it must have been better than the first. 

At this moment, the silence is more pleasing to his ears than any piece of sheet music. He could lie there forever, and is strongly considering it when a loud crack of thunder jolts him upright. He sits up, opens his eyes, and finds a woman with a mess of curls on her head sitting in his armchair.  
“Hello again, Sherlock.”, the woman says, greeting him with a smile. 

He has seen this woman before. About a month back, he and John were working on a rather peculiar case dealing with people who were being set back in time while visiting a museum. The owners of the museum received 4 crates, each containing a statue of an angel. With no return address information, the owners thought it was an anonymous donation, considering they had just added a garden to their grounds. The statues were placed in various places throughout the gardens. Whenever someone would go out into the gardens, they would soon find themselves back inside the museum with no recollection of walking back inside, and their watches would be set 10 minutes prior to them ever entering the gardens. The news got around about this mystery garden, and soon the museum was getting an influx of patrons, all venturing out into the garden. As time went on and more claims arised, the time gaps that people were experiencing were getting larger. Eventually, the claims were that they were sent all the way back to breakfast that morning. 

Sherlock and John racked their brains for days trying to figure this one out, spending countless hours in the garden, studying all the plants on the grounds for possible allergic reactions that would cause this and examining the watches of all the claimed time-traveling victims. Then, one day, Sherlock decided to go alone, without John. That’s when it happened to him. At first Sherlock was shocked, but then intrigued. He immediately went right back to that exact spot in the garden. Then he saw it. How could he of overlooked this. The only variable he did not study. The angel statues. It has to be the statues. 

River, being the archeologist that she is, likes to keep up with museums in the news, no matter when they are. She happened to come across the article about this mystery garden and didn’t think much of it until she glanced at the photo that accompanied it. She would recognize one anywhere. Nestled into the bushes was a Weeping Angel. She strapped on her Vortex Manipulator and set it for London. 

Sherlock was just about to take a step closer to the statue when he heard the voice of a woman behind him. “I wouldn’t go any closer if I were you.”

She grabbed onto him and told him to walk backwards and follow her. He normally is not one for taking orders from people, especially people he just met, but something about this mystery person intrigued him, so he did as he was told. When they were safely inside, she began to explain to him exactly what those statues were and how they worked and that they were weak but were regaining strength and that they were extremely dangerous. What she was saying made sense to him, and he hated that, because accepting her explanation would go against everything he believes in. But, what other choice did he have? She even offered a solution. She only told him one word, but after all she told him of these mysterious statues, he only needed one word. Reflection. 

The next day, with the help of many friends and many eyes to keep fixed on these statutes, they filled the garden with as many reflective lawn décor as they could find. Mirrored lawn ornaments, chrome flower pots, fountains, silver tables and chairs, the list goes on. The statues could not move if someone was making eye contact with them, even of it is with themselves. Case closed. 

Now this woman is back. Sitting in his living room. The loud noise caused by her entrance must of disturbed Ms. Hudson. He could hear her making her way up the stairs.  
“Sherlock, are you alright? What was that noi…” Her eyes meet River’s. “Oh. Hello, I didn’t realize you had company.”

Sherlock’s eyes still adjusting to light and brain still trying to process how this woman just appeared in his flat causes stumbles over his words. “Oh…um...er…yes. Ms. Hudson, this is a….ah…colleague. Her name is River.”

River stands up and walks over to greet Ms. Hudson. “Oh, nice to meet you, dear. How about I bring up some tea.” 

“That would be lovely. Thank you.” River responds. 

Ms. Hudson turns and heads back down the steps. When they hear the fate sounds of her shuffling in the kitchen downstairs, they begin talking. 

Sherlock speaks first, still unconvinced that he is actually awake, and that this is just some alcohol-induced dream or something, “How the hell did you do that? You are the most impossible person I have ever met.” 

“Oh, you have me confused with someone else. I am not the impossible one, dear. But that story is for a different day. We need to chat.” River says. 

“What could we possibly need to talk about? I have yet to regain my grip on reality since the last time we met.” Sherlock grunts in frustration. 

“Well, its about that case you are working on. The one with the little boy claiming he saw his uncle transform into his dad right before his eyes?” River says. 

“Yeah. But I solved it. The boy was just confused. None other than a case of mistaken identity.” Sherlock responds. 

“But that’s not what happened. That’s why I am here. The little boy was right. It did happen. That, my dear, was the Teselecta. And if they are here, then you are going to get more cases just like it, and they are only going to get more complicated.”


End file.
